The Brutalist

We now go to the biggest film of this Oscar season, bar none.

Nearly everything about The Brutalist, Brady Corbet's third feature, is gigantic. It's a movie about grand architecture - made especially obvious if you see it in IMAX (which I did) - set over several decades and it comes with an astronomical runtime of 215 minutes (15 of which are an intermission). The only thing small about it is its budget of just under $10 million. So, let's break ground on this review, shall we?

In the film's overture, we see László Tóth (Adrien Brody), a Hungarian-Jewish refugee, make his way through a tight crowd to get his first glimpse of the Statue of Liberty. This momentous occasion is visualized by Lol Crawley's claustrophobic cinematography and accentuated with Daniel Blumberg's mammoth score, which reaches its crescendo once we finally see Her. The looming Lady Liberty is displayed on the film's posters, and it's especially memorably once we see Her in context.

A renowned architect in Europe, László gets a job at his cousin, Attila's (Alessandro Nivola) furniture store in Philadelphia. One day, a rich guy named Harry Lee Van Buren (Joe Alwyn) hires them to renovate his father's personal library. But that goes haywire when Harrison Sr. (Guy Pearce) shows up and throughs them out in a rage, which leads to Harry Jr. stiffing them for the bill and Atilla throwing out László. Eventually, Harrison warms up to the library after it brings him good press, and he commissions László to build a new community center named for his late mother.

Over the next few years, László lives on the Van Buren estate as he supervises the construction. A few architectural busybodies get in his way, while a devastating train accident nearly literally derails the whole thing. He's soon joined by his wife, Erzsébet (Felicity Jones), whom we hear in voiceover during Act One, and their niece, Zsófia (Raffey Cassidy). His life seems to turn around, but his American Dream starts to crumble when he realizes how rotten his patron is.

Sure, Harrison seems legitimately charming when he apologizes to László for his earlier outburst. He shows nothing but respect for László's architectural skills, even if it's only because of the good press. He seems quite selfless when he gets his lawyer, Michael Hoffman (Peter Polycapou), to hasten Erzsebet and Zsofia's emigration. During act two, his friendliness devolves into condescending compassion until a single act turns him downright monstrous. By the end, he proves himself a bit cowardly too. All in all, it's an impressive villain performance by Pearce, and his Oscar nomination is as deserved as everyone else here who got one, too.

You won't forget the star of the show. Even as the minutes pile up, Brody's compelling performance as László will help keep your eyes on the screen. When we first see him, the claustrophobia is so tight that we don't know where he is; for all we know, he could be fleeing bombs. But once he, and we, see Lady Liberty, the joy is palpable. He has great chemistry with Atilla and his wife, Audrey (Emma Laird), and you'll be devastated when the good times end. His most egotistical moments, such as his fight with an aforementioned busybody, Jim Simpson (Michael Epp), are quite understandable. You'll feel for him as his American Dream turns sour, and wonder, despite the last words, if the destination or journey was worth it.

Now for a few other characters. Jones is pretty good as Erzsébet, but she's downright excellent when she publicly confronts Harrison for his abuse of László. Harry, meanwhile, proves himself as ultimately detestable as his old man; his sister Maggie (Stacy Martin), meanwhile, proves herself the nicest person in her family by far. Isaach de Bankolé is quite likable as Gordon, whom László befriends on a breadline and subsequently hires on his crew. Among Van Buren's crew, the most memorable is Jonathan Hyde as the builder Leslie Woodrow.

This is the first film in over sixty-years to use the VistaVision process for its cinematography. After the claustrophobic opening, the film uses that process to show us the depths of Judy Becker's magnificent production design. Every locale, from a diner to the inside of the community center, is beyond appealing. A few establishing shots are unbelievably pristine and are especially great in IMAX. Crowley's long takes, such as Erzsébet's confrontation with Harrison, are exquisite. When László insults Simpson, you can feel Simpson's rage rise for a good while before he throws down. Kudos to editor Dávid Jancsó for letting Epp's acting speak for itself. 

The Brutalist's gigantic scale on such a low budget befits the architectural style that gives it its name. Yes, it's a hard film to sit through, both with its often-dark turns and its length, but that intermission is a great help. Still, it was rarely boring, and that was mostly due to its central performance and its grand architecture. I'd still advise that you see it as early as you can, even if it's not in IMAX, for it is such a commitment. But I think it's a commitment worth taking at least once.

That's it for now.